


Drop an Angel on a Tree

by KittensAndTea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Also contradicts at some point, Angel wings are just on different planes I guess, It was also gonna b a fix-it, M/M, and lands in front of Dean's car, blame Gabe for Cas falling, castiel falls early, disclaimer I've never been in a church, not rly happy with this part either, read if you want, so this is just the first chapter, something I wanted to fix but didn't, that didn't fix much, what do you write in tags?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:35:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittensAndTea/pseuds/KittensAndTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel blabs, Cas falls mostly, Dean nearly crashes his car.</p>
<p>At least no one's dead yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drop an Angel on a Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Doubtful that I'll finish this, but who knows? It starts a bit before series one I guess...
> 
> It was gonna be multi chaptered, but I got writers block or whatever, so here. Have the first chapter.

Castiel stumbled over the forest floor, his left wing broken and dragging across the ground behind him. He had his right wing pressed to his side, and both arms wrapped around his stomach. The hole in it glowed, as what was left of his grace tried its best to heal it. If he wasn't concentrating on the pain in his wing, he would have been surprised to notice that the hole didn't hurt. He hadn't really noticed his grace trying to fix him up yet, though, so his surprise could be forgiven.

He pushed through a final layer of trees, finding himself on a road. He continued forwards, limping across the road. Then there were lights on him. When he turned to look, there was a car speeding towards him. Instinctively, his right wing drew around him protectively, and he curled up as small as he could go. It wouldn't do much, but it was really just instinct more than anything. He was pretty sure that there was some species of animals that found a hole to curl up and die in. He didn't have a hole, unfortunately.

The hit he'd been waiting for never came, and he heard the screeching of tires as the driver swerved around him.

He looked up. He stared as the car stopped and a man stepped out of the car. Then there was a gun being pointed at his face. He'd fallen straight into the lap of a hunter. Despite his best efforts, his eyelids fell closed.

His last thoughts were probably something along the lines of, 'fuck' although, maybe with a few less curse words.

\---

The Trickster wandered into the church, looking around. He hadn't been to a church of Gabriel in a very long time. He padded down the centre of the church, towards the confessional as a human stepped out.

He stepped inside the empty booth, humming as he did.

"Hey father." He said, glancing to the side where the father stood on the other side of the booth. "I've done a lot of bad things in my lifetime."

After a brief silence, the father questioned, "Would you like to elaborate."

The Trickster hummed, as if considering it, "Not particularly." He replied at length, probably earning a frown from the father, "But, see... Before I ran from my family, I had this kid brother. He was just learning to fly. Didn't want him to get corrupted by my brothers ideals, y'know? Since I wouldn't be there to protect him? So I told him to watch the humans. And I told him it was okay to sympathise with them and their plights. And I told him to question any order from our brothers that he thought sounded wrong. And I told him that whatever they said, our father wasn't there anymore.

"And I left, and I thought he'd be okay. I didn't think he'd be willing to fall for the cause I left him to think about. But I guess that's how it's looking now." He paused, glancing towards the grate in the wood, "It feels weird letting out all my problems in a place created for me. What should I do, father? I've been hiding from my brothers so long. Do I come out of hiding to save my fledgling?" He tilted his head to the side, watching through the wall at the wide eyed look on the man's face.

The man let out a breath, probably quietly wondering if the short man in the booth beside him was insane, "I believe that you should do what you feel is the right course of action. And if you believe that... Your, um, fledgling 'falling' was your fault, and you feel guilt... The best thing you could do is help him."

The Trickster hummed thoughtfully, and then snapped his fingers to the other side of the door, back into the church hall. He looked around with a grin, "I'll watch over him for just a little longer. And when I do return, Michael can go screw himself." He turned back to the booth to find the father, after opening the door, staring at him. "And... Thanks father. You were a big help."

And with that, the Trickster decided not to be Gabriel quite yet.

\---

Castiel's eyes flickered open, but he felt groggy. His head hurt, and so did his stomach and his wings. Especially the left one. There was a demon trap on the ceiling above him.

And then his memories were flooding back, and he was cuffed to the bed he was lying on, with his broken wing limply draped over the covers and his right wing bent at a weird angle - half over him half under him. He tried to shuffle into a better position, but found his feet were also tied to the other end of the bed with rope rendering him completely immobile.

He let out a pained cry as he shifted over his right wing and it bent further. He couldn't see properly, but he knew that it wasn't in the right place, and it wasn't supposed to rotate at that angle. He could feel the remainder of his grace still trying to repair his stomach, but it was getting nowhere. He could count it lucky that it had even prevented him from death. He could feel a few stray leaves digging into his inside from the tree.

"You're awake." He turned his head slowly to face the speaker, trying not to jostle either of his wings.

"Indeed." He replied, his voice croaky and weak to his own ears.

"Who and what are you?" The guy asked. He had short, sandy blonde hair, and he was holding a knife toward Castiel.

He was a hunter, and there was no way he'd believe the truth. But Castiel had to try, at least, "I'm Castiel, Angel of... Of... I am an angel." The hunter scoffed.

"Yeah? Angels don't exist. You're some sorta demon, aren't you?" He said, eyes narrowed.

"My right wing." Castiel stared up at the guy with a pained expression, ignoring what the hunter had said, "It isn't the way it should be, please would you let me fix it?"

There was a silence as the hunter glanced down at the wing. He clearly wasn't inclined to agree. Castiel sighed, and then lifted his head in an attempt to get a look at the hole in his stomach. As much as he'd hoped the grace might have made just a little progress, it seemed as though it hadn't changed. It was only really dulling the pain now.

He tried to shuffle to get a better look, but now he'd shifted more onto his broken wing. He let out a hiss between clenched teeth, tears welling up in his eyes and making it hard to see. He gave up with a sigh, dropping his head back onto the bed and closing his eyes.

It was then that he felt the cuffs being undone. His eyes shot open, staring wide eyed at the hunter as he put one set of cuffs, and then the other, onto the bedside table.

He stared at his hands for a moment, and then tried to push himself up. Groaning, he fell back to the bed. The jolt to his wing brought a pained cry from him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and flinched away, but the hunter simply pushed him to a sitting position. Castiel wasn't particularly enjoying appearing so weak in front of a hunter, but there wasn't much he could do.

He turned to stare at the hunter for a few moments - he'd been doing a lot of staring lately - before turning his attention to evaluating his injuries. After a few moments he turned back to the hunter.

"I... Hate to ask this of you, but... Would you mind standing back a little?" The hunter looked like he was going to refuse, but then stepped backwards.

There wasn't enough room to fully stretch out his right wing, but he pushed it as far as he could. When it was stretched out, he turned, and manoeuvred it so that he could safely close it. He folded it tightly against himself and turned his attention to his left wing. He'd never broken it before. Nor had he ever had his wings stuck manifested in the physical plane. He noticed the hunter glance up at the demon trap on the ceiling as his wing easily brushed past it.

Looking down at his stomach, he pressed both hands to it, thinking. Would it be better to heal the hole, or push his wings back out of this plane?

He stared forlornly down at his wing, slumping a little. "I... Cannot heal myself. Most of my grace has left me, and..." He didn't finish, just sighing and staring at his lap. He wasn't really talking to the hunter, but he expected him to answer anyway.

"Well, 'angel', you're gonna have to move at some point. I've got places to be and I'm not just leaving you here when you could be a threat." The hunter said, eyes narrowed. Castiel sighed, nodding.

"I can..." He turned back to look at his injured wing again, before lifting both hands to it, "Do you have something I can bite down on?" He looked back at the hunter, who raised his brows and handed him the holster of a gun. Castiel placed it between his teeth and then clutched his wing, bending it so that he could properly fold it against his back. The holster only partly stopped the pained cries he let out.

When he was finished, he looked up at the hunter, "I will need a belt, a clean shirt, and a coat." The guy blinked, before nodding.

"Gonna have to put these back on." He said, holding up the cuffs. Castiel nodded and laid back down, only wincing. He lifted both hands up and let the hunter cuff him to the bed again. Closing his eyes, he listened to the hunter leave the room.

\---

Castiel must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke up when the door to the room opened again. He turned his head to the side to look as the hunter reentered with a black button up shirt, a belt, and a tan trench coat.

The hunter dropped all three items on Castiel's chest, and then unlocked both handcuffs again. Castiel nodded his thanks and unbuttoned his own shirt, pulling it off and surveying the damage again. He lifted a hand to his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus his grace on healing the wound.

He could feel his grace working at it, and the wound ever so slowly closing. After about five minutes of concentration, he sighed, his hands dropping. He opened his eyes, panting slightly and looking over the wound again. It had mostly sealed, and now only looked like a gash. The hunter sighed, "If you can't do any more with... Whatever that was, I'll stitch it for you."

Castiel turned, blinking, and then nodded, "That would helpful, thank you." The hunter shrugged and turned to grab his first aid kit from his bag.

After cleaning and stitching the wound, Castiel pulled the belt around his chest, fastening his wings in place.

"How'd you get that anyway?" The hunter asked, gesturing to his stomach.

Cats glanced down as he pulled the black shirt on over his wings, "I was impaled by a tree upon landing..." Castiel replied at length, beginning to do up his shirt. The human raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment. Castiel blinked at the trench coat, before tugging it on and looking towards the hunter, "I am ready to leave when you need to." He said.

The human sighed, before moving to untie Castiel's ankles, "We gotta go now, I have a case." He said, Castiel nodding and attempting to stand.

"I am surprised you have not tried harder to kill me." Castiel said, looking up at the human as he tried to pull himself up by the bed frame.

"I don't know any lore about people with wings. I sorta assumed you were some new kind of demon I hadn't seen yet, and I was gonna look it up once I got you to tell me." He shrugged, "I still don't believe in angels."

Castiel managed to chuckle slightly, finally steady on his feet, "I would attempt to prove it to you, but that would be impossible in my present state." He replied, taking a shaky step forward, "If you do not mind my asking, what is your name? I cannot keep referring to you as 'hunter', and 'human'."

It was the hunter's turn to chuckle, "Dean Winchester." He replied, opening the door for Castiel as the angel continued to put one foot in from of the other. Once Castiel was out the door, Dean pointed him in the direction of his car. He had to gather his stuff and sign out.

Castiel stood beside the car until Dean came back, awkwardly climbing into the front seat when Dean unlocked it.

He spent the ride in silence, although he may have passed out at some point. He wasn't quite sure.

\---

It was two nights on the road later that Castiel noticed that Dean had started calling him 'Cas'. When he pointed it out, Dean cleared his throat awkwardly and asked if Castiel wanted him to stop. Castiel found that he really didn't mind, and said as much.

That was the same night that they arrived at Dean's destination. It was a bed and breakfast, supposedly haunted. Castiel climbed out of the car, looking up at the place with his head tilted to the side.

"How long do your 'cases' generally take?" He asked, glancing over at Dean. The hunter hummed thoughtfully, shrugging his shoulders.

"Dunno, depends what it is. Maybe three days to a week, average?" He shut his door and walked around the car, indicating for Castiel to follow him into the B&B, "C'mon, Cas. The sooner we get in, right?"

"Right...?" Castiel gave the back of Dean's head a confused look, but followed behind him anyway.

Castiel was slightly surprised that they got a room with two beds, "Dean, I do not need to sleep." He said with a frown, earning a laugh from the hunter.

"Yeah, right, and yet you passed out twice on the way here." He rolled his eyes, "Anyway, it's still pretty early, so let's go ask around."

They wandered to the dining hall, Castiel attempting to tell Dean that he also did not need to eat, and being shot down again.

Dean plopped into a chair and Castiel sat down opposite him, a small frown on his face. The place wasn't too busy, so the waitress was over to them pretty quickly. She handed them both menus, promising to return in five minutes when they'd decided what they wanted to order.

As she said, the waitress returned, a smile on her face, "Have you decided what you want?" She asked.

"Ah... I could really do with a bacon burger." Dean grinned, leaning back in his chair, "And a beer." She nodded, and Castiel realised she was now looking at him.

"Oh, um... Garden salad... And water, please..." Castiel requested, causing Dean to groan and slide down in his chair melodramatically.

"Really? Jeez, you eat like my brother..." He whined, causing the waitress to laugh, and Castiel to give him a confused look.

"Alright, if that's all then I'll come back with your drinks in a minute." The waitress smiled, returning to the kitchen.

"Dean, why is it called a garden salad?" Castiel asked after a moment of silence.

Dean grinned, not yet used to the strange questions Castiel asked, "I dunno. Maybe cause you find the ingredients in a garden?" He shrugged, tapping his fingers against the table, "It's been a while since I've worked with someone other than dad." He mused, although it was more to himself than Castiel.

"I am not sure how much help I can be, but I will try." He told Dean, shifting awkwardly in his seat and turning to watch as the waitress walked back with their drinks.

"Ah, thanks." Dean grinned, taking a sip of the beer. Castiel nodded his head in thanks, giving a small smile. Dean glanced up at the girl, eyeing her name tag, "Hey, so, Riley. I'm really interested in the Supernatural, and I heard this place was haunted. So I dragged my friend here with me, and I was wondering where we could find these ghosts." Castiel blinked, but stayed quiet, aware that his social skills were in no way up to par with Dean's.

The waitress looked to either side of her, and then leaned forward with her palms pressed to the table, "So there's two. That have been seen, at least." She began, wearing a small smile, "There's a girl in room four - usually, she appears around two a.m., and she always sits on the bed next to the window. She freaks out a lot of patrons. We saw her going into the woman's bathroom once, though, so it seems like she just prefers room four. And there's also the guy in the basement. He normally just moved stuff around."

There was a beat of silence, and then Dean said, "But...?" He raised his eyebrows, causing the waitress to once again glance around them.

"Well... Lately, the ghost in the basement has been throwing things, and making a lot of noise. And... Martin got really badly hurt when he went down there to grab something..." She sighed, standing, "That's all I know. And I gotta get back to work." She gave them a smile, then she was off towards the kitchen.

"I'm guessing you already knew about the injury of that man?" Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side.

Dean nodded, taking a swig of beer, "Yeah." He glanced towards the kitchen, grinning as Riley brought over their food. "And we're in room four."

Castiel sighed, this was gonna be a long few days.

\---

After a night of trying to figure out who the ghosts could be, followed by Castiel waking up to a ghost sitting at the end of his bed, they finally had something to go off. Before Dean had interrupted, Castiel had noticed that she seemed to be trying to say something. After Dean had assured himself that the ghost was gone, Castiel told him as much, "She was saying something. As far as I could tell; Matilde Smith is back."

They learnt that Matilde Smith was rumoured to have killed two people in the B&B, but had been let off on account of lack of evidence. She had eventually been convicted of killing another man, and set to be jailed for life. She'd been shot by an angry friend of the man she'd killed. The two ghosts were most likely the victims of Matilde. Now all they had to do was figure out where the woman was buried. It wasn't particularly hard, and they burnt her body.

After spending the next few nights in the B&B to make sure everything had, indeed, calmed down, they set off again. Castiel was pleased to notice that Dean seemed to sort of trust him.

They went on a couple of cases after that, until Dean began worrying about his father not contacting him. Then there was the voice mail, and the two were off to search in the last place John Winchester had been.


End file.
